


Meet Me

by mhunter10



Series: Neathe [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Happy Mickey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: #mickey x happiness





	

“What kind of name is Neathe anyway?” Mickey asked, sipping his coffee. He dug into his steak and eggs, waiting for the inevitable answer to this inside joke.

He laughs. He’s always just on the verge of a laugh, it’s amazing. His smile is constantly on the cusp of full blown amusement. His teeth aren’t perfect, whose are anyway, but it makes the smile even cuter. And it’s even more genuinely special in person.

“What kind of name is Mickey?” he counters, as usual. This joke only plays when they’ve been getting too close to discussing something too seriously. It’s a sort of reprieve from the building tension; a happy callback to those awkward and exciting first Skype chats. It does the trick and they keep eating.

They’ve been meeting up for breakfast for dinner for almost two months now. It’s casual, less pressure that way, but still a different sort of tension has hung over them for a while. They’ve both noticed it, toyed with acknowledging it. Mostly they eat and talk and laugh, and it’s fun. Mickey hasn’t had fun in a while, and it’s a separate fun from watching and experiencing his son growing up.

He knows about him. Hasn’t met him, but has seen pictures and heard the stories. Not once has dilf been uttered.

Mickey looks up as he chews, smiles when their eyes meet. His are brown, like the rest of him but with a sparkle to them like light years. Dark hair in almost the same style as Mickey’s. The birthmark on his jaw seems more of a tempting target. Mickey looks back at his food and swallows.

“My mother is calling me,” Neathe announces and chuckles. He answers, all cheer and no dread. His eyes crinkle at the corners like Mickey’s. His mouth moves with the smooth unthinking words of a language that sounds far away.

Mickey tries to remember what it is, as he listens. Tagalog? That’s it. He wonders if he’ll ever leave the Southside, see America, see not America.

His eyes meet his as he talks. He smiles, winks, stuffs waffle in his mouth. A strawberry escapes his lips, covering them in sweet whipped cream and sticky syrup.

Mickey snorts, handing him a napkin for his chin when he can’t reach with his tongue. The stud juts out with the struggle. Mickey’s never been into piercings until recently. He wonders what else is pierced.

The call ends. They talk more until their plates are empty. If Mickey drinks any more coffee he might jump out of his skin. There’s something that’s been pulling at him all night. They pay and leave, walk out into the late air.

“You look like you have something on your mind,” Neathe says, walking beside Mickey closely. He doesn’t smoke, Mickey is trying to cut down. It works.

Mickey laughs. “You didn’t even look at my face.”

“Do I need to?” He does look, though.

Mickey shakes his head. They stop at the corner that is theirs, only in that it’s the halfway point between their places. Neathe doesn’t hit the crosswalk button just yet. He puts his hands in his pockets, steps closer to Mickey.

Mickey breathes. “Can I-” he stops himself, bites his lip.

Neathe doesn’t laugh. “Do it.”

Mickey looks at him. He’s not much taller, maybe even about the same without shoes.

He leans in and kisses him.

It’s not slow, more like he launched off a springboard into it. He brings his hand up to where he knows that mark is, holds him their gently. His lips feel perfect.

It’s great.

They pull apart. Neathe smiles so Mickey does. The desperate pulling he felt fades to a calmness.

It’s great.

**Author's Note:**

> #mickey x happiness


End file.
